


072 - Van Looks After the Girl Who is a Little Too Drunk

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Hero Van, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompts “Can you write a story where you get really drunk at a party and van looks after you/ walls you home etc.” and “Where Van takes care of you when you get too drunk?”





	072 - Van Looks After the Girl Who is a Little Too Drunk

"Babe, where are your friends?" 

It was probably the third or fourth time he'd asked the question. You were lying flat on the grass out the front of the house party. The night sky was so pretty. So. Pretty. The stars! So many! Did you just think it or is that how you'd answered his question? You turned your head to look at him again. You vaguely remembered noticing him throughout the night. His long sleeved white t-shirt was remarkably clean, even then at the end of the night. He was crouching on the grass next to you. You smiled at him to try to make him smile. It worked. He shook the grin from his face.

"Love, I don't know where you've put your phone but-"

"In my bag!" you call quickly. He shook his head.

"No, we checked there. We need to find whoever you came with,"

"Elsie," you whispered.

"You came with Elsie?" he confirmed and you nodded with your eyes closed. "What was she wearing?" Answering that would have taken way too many words. You shrugged. The guy stood and there were more feet then. A conversation was had, and it was about you, but you were too busy trying to find the stars to notice. You giggled when you realised your eyes were closed.

"No stars in my eyes," you whispered to yourself and laughed again.

He was back and maybe time had passed. He had a bottle of water and asked you to sit up. You could, and you did, but it made you feel nauseous. You started to shake your head and went to lay back down.

"No, babe, please drink some," he urged. You tried to focus on his face. His features were blurry but you felt like he was pretty like the stars. You wanted to do what he said so you nodded. He helped you hold the bottle still and you drank some. Once you had a few sips you took the bottle and drank more. He seemed relieved but took it away from you when you downed half. “Not too much. You'll puke... Alright. I don't know where your friend is, but I think you need to go home. I'm going to look at your license, yeah? For an address." You watched him go through your bag and wallet. He spoke to someone close by, then stood. "Alright, up." He held out both his hands and you reached up and took them. He pulled you to your feet. Far off the ground, you were dizzy. He moved to hold you by the waist. "Can you put your arm around me?" he asked. You did, and with your arm around his shoulders, it was easier to stay balanced. He walked from the yard with you, and you realised you recognised the houses you were walking past.

"I know this street," you said amazed.

"Yeah, not surprised. You live just around the corner. Hoping maybe that's where your friend is? Do you live with her?"

"Who?"

"Your friend. The one from the party. Elsie, was it?"

"Yes," you replied helpfully.

"Yes that's her name or yes she lives with you?"

You were confused, but the walking and the breeze was helping. You realised then that you were walking past Cat House. "Cat House!" you cried out and let go of the guy. You ran to the fence and dropped to your knees. You pushed your arms through the bars and started to make kissing sounds into the darkness of the yard. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," you whispered. You could feel the guy stand close behind. You turned to look up at him. He was lighting a smoke and watching you. "There's cats here," you told him. He nodded and smiled.

"Figured," he replied. He wasn't angry; maybe a little frustrated but he had the tobacco for that. 

You turned back to the yard. There was a black and white cat sitting in almost hand's reach. You wriggled your fingers at it and it came closer. You let the cat smell your hand, and once it decided you were not a threat it came right up for a pat. You laughed and patted. Another ginger cat followed closely behind. They squeezed through the bars of the fence and came out onto the sidewalk. The black and white one went to the guy and rubbed itself against his legs. He crouched down and rubbed the cat behind the ears, and the cat purred in reply. You watched them interact and the gentleness of the patting made you feel spacey and warm. The ginger cat meowed loudly at you and you scratched his ears. When the guy dropped his cigarette butt in the gutter and stomped it out, you stood back up. He seemed surprised that you could move by yourself. He started to walk, but when you stumbled a few steps he took hold of you again.

He stopped out the front of your house. You told him you lived there. He said he knew, and went through your bag for your keys. As he went through the process of figuring out which was the right one, you stood behind him, and slowly fell into his back. Your head was pressed into his spine. You could hear him laughing quietly to himself. When he unlocked the door he reached around to hold you up while he walked into the house. "Um. Hi!" he called, unsure. "Anyone home?" Nobody was. "Where's your bedroom?" he asked, turning back to you and locking the front door. You looked down the hallway and started to slowly walk towards your room.

"What's your name?" you asked when you walked past the closed door of your housemate's room. She had a small whiteboard stuck to her door, and her name was written on it. It made you realise people indeed had names.

"Van,"

"Van?" you echoed in a high pitch tone of disbelief.

"It's short for my middle name - Evan," he explained. You could feel his hands ghosting over your hips like training wheels on a bike. You were walking alone but if you fell he'd catch you quick.

"I'm Y/N,"

"I know. Saw your license, remember." Your door was open and you walked through the dark room and collapsed onto the bed. Van stood in the doorway and you looked back at his silhouette. He switched the light on and you scrunched your eyes closed quickly. "I'm going to get you some water, okay? Try to take your shoes off." He disappeared and for only a second you wondered how dumb you were to let a stranger into your house. You could hear the kitchen tap. He was back before you had moved an inch. He put the glass of water on your bedside table. "Y/N, you don't want to sleep in your shoes." Your eyes were still closed and you shrugged. "Alright. Well, this couldn't get any weirder, so…" You felt him unbuckle your boots and carefully take them off. Your bed was unmade, and it was therefore easy for him to pull a blanket over you. "Drink some water," he said. You opened your eyes and sat up a little. The glass was heavy and put he kept his hand on it to help. You laid back down. He stood looking at you with concern on his face. "Do you feel alright? Not going to throw up or anything?" You shook your head no. "If you do you might choke and die,"

"Okay," you replied.

"Not okay. If I see your face on the news…"

"Why am I on the news?!" you asked loudly, closing your eyes again.

"You're not. But if you choke on your own vomit you might be,"

"I'm okay," you told him. With the light and shapes of the room blacked out, you could hear more. You listened as carefully as you could. You were distracted by the loud thumping in your head, and even with your eyes closed everything was somehow spinning.

"See? You just made a sound. Are you sure you're okay?" he said in accusation. You didn’t remember making a sound. You did, though. A small groan that ended as a whimper. You didn't reply and he sighed. You heard him move, then the switch of your bedside lamp. It was a lava lamp and Van chuckled as he turned it on. "I didn't know these things still existed." The main light went out then. The darkness behind your eyes went darker, and you realised before it wasn't black but a deep red. More movement, then stillness. Was he gone? You tried to force yourself to fall asleep quickly, but your skin felt sticky and hot and your tummy was rolling and making you uncomfortable. A sound. Your eyes shot open. Van was sitting next to your bed, his back to the bedside table. He looked up at you and read the confusion in your expression. "I'm not going to let you die." You wanted to protest, or at least acknowledge the weirdness of the situation too, but you could only feel comforted by him being there. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep again.

…

You woke up and the room was dark. The curtains were closed and the door was shut. The lava lamp was off, and Van was gone. You sat up and regretted it immediately. Your head ached and you could feel the contradictory experience of being ravenously hungry and hating the thought of food simultaneously. You fumbled in the early morning darkness for the lamp switch. Lit up, your room seemed warmer. On the notepad you kept by your bed to record weird dreams and midnight thoughts there was a note. 'It's good you're okay. Please don't die in the night. Love, Van.' There was a phone number too.

You wandered out into the kitchen. Your housemate was there and so was Elsie. You sat down and she poured you coffee and pushed it over. You picked up a dry piece of toast from her plate.

"Where'd you go?" she asked in a whisper. Your housemate was packing herself lunch for work, and was amused at the severity of hangover in the room.

"What?"

"I came looking for you and someone said you left with a guy? I was so fucking worried, I ran all the way here."

"I thought… I don't know… I was very drunk. I don't think I… He wasn't like… We weren't…" as you spoke you tried to piece together the few memories you had. Mostly you could remember sensations and emotion. Being dazzled by the stars. Cats fur. Cold water. Long eyelashes. Gentle fingers on your hips. Elsie smiled as you struggled and you could tell she knew something.

"I'm fucking with you. I did hear you left with someone, and I did come here, but he was leaving when I got here. Van. Said you were fucked and that he put you to bed. Also, you've lost your phone, so well done,"

"Van?" you had forgotten his name, but hearing it helped you to remember him. White t-shirt. Pointy teeth. "Short for Evan."

"Okay. Well. He's cute, and when I checked on you I saw he left his number, so when you get a phone you should definitely use it to call him," Elsie said.

"He also didn't steal anything, so that's a plus," your housemate added as she left the room.

"Was he cute?" you asked Elsie.

"You don't remember?"

"Not completely? I remember I liked his clothes, and he smelt good,"

"Creepy, Y/N. Yeah. He's a babe. He seemed sweet."

After you attempted a few more bites of toast you returned to bed. Elsie, who had slept on the couch, joined you. You cuddled up under the blankets and debriefed about the rest of the night. She fell asleep again, and as you watched the globs of purple move in the lamp, you thought about Van. Yes. You would definitely call him and hope that your drunkenness hadn't left a bad impression. He had left his number though, so chances were good. You fell asleep soon after Elsie, remembering the image of Van standing in the darkness patting a cat with a smoke hanging from his lips.


End file.
